Where Nobody Knows Your Name
by ERclaireER
Summary: Running away is an art. It always had been, but it's even more so when you've got friends in the FBI.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** New story time! You'll get the gist on the once you read this chapter, so I'm not going to ruin anything for you by blabbing too much. I'm having a lot of fun with this one, I'll say that much. It's sort of inspired by an ER fanfiction I've read, written by Ocean of Ashes called Against the Odds, so thank you Ocean for your support with this story.

**Obligatory Disclaimer:** Bones and all affiliated plots and characters do not belong to me. This story does. Idea based on Against the Odds by Ocean of Ashes and title is a modified song lyric from the Cheers theme song written by Gary Portnoy and Judy Hart Angelo

Running away is an art. It always had been, but it's even more so when you've got friends in the FBI. You don't want to be found and they're hell bent on tracking you down. It's even harder when everyone knows your name, when your face is permanently affixed to the back of a dozen books in local libraries, book shops, and living room shelves.

There are fewer places to go that he doesn't know about. My childhood residence is out the question; probably the first place he'd look. I can't stay with my brother; he'd look there too. But I don't know if I'd want to go there anyway. He'd ask too many questions to which I don't have the answers. The only person I'd consider talking to is my best friends, but in these particular circumstances, I can't expect her to keep quiet. It's kind of, in a messed up sort of way, exactly what she's always wanted. I'm pregnant with Special Agent Seely Booth's child. He doesn't know and I'd like to keep it that way.

What happened that night, the night of Mr. Nigel-Murray's untimely passing, simply shouldn't have. Any feelings I have or don't have for Booth should not have been acted upon in a time of guilt and grief. It haunts me that this is the memory I carry with me of my child's conception and is a large contributing factor in my decision to get as far away from D.C. as I possibly can. I'm frightened enough about the prospect of being a mother and doing this all on my own, but I don't need that hanging over my head. It's not healthy and if I want to be the best mother I can be, I need to remove myself from the negativity. But as far as everyone else is concerned, I'm just taking another sabbatical. The Maluku Islands project didn't work out and as far as they know, I've found something more promising.

When Booth and I go undercover, our new identities are assigned to us by the FBI. If it's a more subtle operation, I turn to Angela for wardrobe advice, or rather, she tends to give it unsolicited. As neither of these are feasible options now, I must turn to my fiction writing prowess. I had to be careful though. Anything remotely similar to my books and Booth would catch on quickly. I also had to be sure to commit everything to memory. I couldn't leave any sort of paper trail.

I would no longer go by Temperance Brennan but by Addison Marsh, a 35-year old librarian from Rock Island, Illinois. That's where my trail of lies would begin. Eventually my pregnancy would raise questions. Who is the father? Where is he? Patrick Marsh served in the United States Army, stationed at the Rock Island Arsenal, and had been deployed to Afghanistan shortly after learning of our new status as parents-to be. We met in high school and, as Booth would say, it was love at first sight. Temperance Brennan would say there could only be infatuation and sexual appeal upon initial laying of eyes, but I wasn't Temperance Brennan anymore so what she thought didn't matter. Patrick and I wed (another thing Temperance Brennan wouldn't do) spontaneously in an airport just before he was about to leave for his first deployment three years prior, back when he was stationed out of Fort Jackson in South Carolina where we grew up.

I was able to pay someone to change all of my legal documents and I'd get a new driver's license once I arrived in Illinois. I planned on dying my hair, changing my current brunette locks to a lighter auburn. I couldn't do that here as my friends would be seeing me off tomorrow morning, all the while thinking I was headed for an Egyptian burial ground and not starting a new life just across the country. As far as I knew, no one had any suspicions to the contrary. The request for sabbatical had been met with reluctance, especially from Dr. Saroyan and Booth, but I eventually convinced them that it was something I needed to pursue. Or at least I convinced Dr. Saroyan. Booth was pissed to have to work with another, less qualified anthropologist. He's told me so ever since my trip was approved. I was fairly certain that was why he was here now, to complain while he still had the chance. I let him in but continued with my packing.

"What's the big deal about this mummy project anyway, Bones? I know Malupichu didn't go as planned, but you're not going to find missing evolutionary puzzle pieces in any sarcophagus."

"You have no way of knowing that. And need I remind you that we were pretty highly lauded the last time we investigated a mummy?"

"That was different. We were working together. And on the same continent."

"We've done this before, Booth, the whole different continent thing. I'm certain we'll get on just fine."

"Again, that was different," he argued. "We hadn't…you know…we didn't"

"Have sexual intercourse, you mean?" I said it nonchalantly, but my heart rate increased. No matter what was said from here on out, I was not uttering a word about this baby, I promised myself in the awkward silence.

"Yeah, that," Booth said uncomfortably. "You can't tell me it didn't mean anything to you. You can't run away from it."

"I'm not running away from it," I said, perhaps too quickly. "And yes, I'll admit it meant something, but does it have to mean everything? We can go about our lives. We can catch the bad guys. We can exhume mummies. The world doesn't have to stop or change because of one night."

But it did. My world was changing forever. I was just sparing Booth from having his world turned upside down as well. He was nearly the victim of a sniper attack. I think that's enough to bear.

"You may drive me crazy, Bones," he said, taking my hand and pulling me away from my packing and into his arms, "but I'm going to miss you." I didn't shy away, though my mind was screaming for me to back off. His scent, the warmth of his body against mine; it lured me in. I buried my face in his shirt, inhaling deeply so to catalog the memory, and he tightened his embrace. In that moment, all I wanted to do was come clean. I wanted to tell him that I now believed in love. I wanted to tell him that I was carrying his child. I wanted to see his face light up before he kissed me senseless.

"It'll only be a few months," I lied instead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all who reviewed and added my story to favorites. Most reactions I've ever gotten to a single chapter. I hope this one meets your (high) expectations. And for those of you who didn't like it, I'm sorry. This is a little AU.

**Disclaimer: **Story is mine. Bones is not.

It wasn't part of my plan. In fact, it was the exact opposite of my plan for Booth to stay the night. Even though I didn't tell him a single thing that I secretly wanted to say, he still kissed me senseless. He made me forget about my packing. He made me forget about my flight. He made me forget about my new life, but never the new life growing inside me.

At this point, the baby is still only in the embryonic stages of development, approximately the size of a lima bean, but the irrational and probably hormonal part of me thinks that he or she already identifies with Booth, recognizes him as his father. The rational part knows this cannot be true, that they physiological responses I was experiencing were due to my own proximity and emotional feelings for Booth.

He may have made me forget all of those things, but I certainly remembered at three o'clock in the morning when the alarm blared on my bedside table. I was taken by surprise when it wasn't my hand to slap off the offending machine.

"Three o'clock, Bones? Seriously?" Booth groaned. "Please tell me this isn't an everyday thing?"

"My flight leaves at six and you're not even supposed to be here, so no complaining"

"I wasn't complaining last night and neither were you..." he said, waggling his eyebrows as he turned on his side to face me. I shoved him lightly on the shoulder. "But it seems like my effort to change your mind was futile."

"You don't get to change my mind," I told him, getting up out of bed, gathering my strewn garments and placing them in the hamper. I stood, naked, in front of my closet, looking for something to wear that wasn't already packed away.

Booth, who had located and put on his boxers and a tee shirt, padded up behind me, placing small kisses on my trapezius muscle between my neck and shoulder. "I've got one thing you can wear."

He placed a familiar gold chain around my neck, cold as the medal fell against my bare chest. His Saint Christopher's medal.

"By the way, I find your lack of modesty refreshing," he told me, mimicking what I'd told him when I invaded his bathroom, as he turned me to face him, wearing nothing but his prized possession.

"I've got nothing to hide," I lied again. And then I started to cry.

"Bones, what is it?"

I couldn't keep it; not this time. If everything went according to my plans, we'd never see each other again. I couldn't have that constant reminder and he'd never get it back.

He pulled me into his arms and held me as I cried, kissing the top of my head and murmuring reassuring words into my hair. When I finally composed myself and pulled away, he looked at me for a long time.

"I'm just overwhelmed," I said, an answer to his silent questioning. "I'll be fine." I pulled a random blouse from the closet and crossed the room to the chest of drawers for the remainder of my ensemble. "I'm taking a shower; I do have a flight to catch. Make yourself at home."

And I left him standing there in my bedroom.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Booth was loading my bags into his car. He was my ride to the airport. The airport process had the potential to out me, but I'd worked out a fairly fool-proof solution. I'd hired an airport security guard to take care of my bags so that no one, Angela and Hodgins were meeting us there, would know they were en route to Rock Island and not Egypt. Though Booth would likely try to use his badge to get past the security check point and accompany me to my gate, I was assured that security personnel would be adamant and ruthless in their expectations. I know it'll upset Booth, but we'll still get to say our goodbyes, just sooner than anticipated. Quick and painless, I thought.

Of course then there'd be a lot of waiting around. Like I told Booth, my flight doesn't leave until six. That leaves a good amount of time for contemplation. Maybe I'd work on my book or catch up on some scholarly reading. It meant a lot of waiting for Angela and Hodgins too. When Miss Wick and I departed for the Maluku Islands, Angela reportedly stayed to watch our plane leave the runway. I'd imagine Michael, young though he may be, might also enjoy the visual and auditory stimulation brought about by airplanes. Whether Booth would stay, I don't know. I figured we'd talk about it at breakfast.

We had enough time to stop at the Royal Diner on our way to the airport. We were both hungry, but neither of us were awake enough to actually cook something. We ordered a plate of pancakes, Booth's with a side of bacon and sausage. The smell nauseated me, but I didn't let it show.

"What are you doing about the apartment while you're away?" Booth asked me.

"I spoke to my landlord and he agreed to take a few months worth of rent. I'll just need someone to look in on the place every now and then. I suspended daily newspaper delivery and I'll need someone to intercept my mail in the meantime."

"If that's your way of asking me, yes, I'll take care of things around here," he smiled.

"I appreciated it," I said, his smile toying with my emotions. "Booth, can I ask you one more favor?"

"Sure Bones, anything."

"This is really hard for me, leaving when our relationship is still so fresh. I don't want to make things harder than they have to be. Once we say goodbye today, I want you to go. If you stay, I'll have that reminder of what I'm going to be missing out on."

He looked hurt, but nodded. "I understand, Bones. If that's what'll help you. We just better have one hell of a goodbye."

And we did. First, Angela cried, mourning the fact that Auntie Temperance would be missing some of the first milestones of Michael's life. She hugged me until I could barely breathe. Hodgins gave me his safety spiel in regard to Egyptian climate, topography, and wildlife; his own display of affection. And then there was Booth. He shooed away the Hodgins brood so we could have a moment alone in the middle of the busy airport.

Against my better judgment, I'd chosen to keep Booth's medal. I pulled it out from beneath the collar of my blouse to show him and he grinned. He pulled me into his arms, almost forcefully, kissing me like he never had before. If I was senseless last night, I don't even know how to describe this. It was as if he knew this was his last chance and wanted to make it count.


End file.
